A small building in the center of the Board RP Continuum sits, relatively free of harm. Protected by a shielding that causes no damage to the exterior, most damage comes from various persons showing off their powers to obtain a pattent.

Merely a two story building, with an unknown level of basements, the UPPO sits as a testament to the owning power of ones own... well, powers.

Various citizens have entered, filing with the UPPO to garner a monopoly on their own <i>unique</i> powers. From pocketed trenches, to multiphasic rifts... if you've created it, you can pattent it.

Upon entering, one finds the walls lined with filing cabinets, and various worker synthoids catagorizing and alphabetizing. Clearly, this is the place to go to get all your filing needs taken care of.

(Concerning powers, that is... )

[OOC] Okei, folks... Here we go. We all know that various people here have different powers. Well, some of us have powers that we would not like to be ripped off, unless permission is granted. Chris's rifts, Spy's coats, my cigarette... and various others.

Basically, all you have to do is come here, post your trademarked/pattented/copywritten powers, and there you have it. Yours. You can return here to see what powers are pattented, and who you must as (most likely private message) to use.

Now... a few rules. No pattenting taken powers. This applies to board members and/or known superheroes/anime characters... and the likes.

For example... No pattenting Mog's dance from Final Fantasy VI as your own, or Superman's flight or invulnerability.

Now, I know that many of the things some of us use may be used elsewhere... but this is more or less for other things and such. I doubt anywhere in comics/anime has a sentient popcorn cart.

Just don't get too crazy. This is for fun, all.

Oh, and one last thing... you can RP your pattent application, or just post about it. This isn't a full RP, per se, but it would be fun to have a little gaming going on in here. [/OOC]

-BiShouNenKaMi
Founder. *takes a hit off his cigarette* <font color=darkred><i>Got a problem with it??</font></i>

Excuse me, does the rules apply to poers or special effects of said poewrs, like I thought Spy coats were a variation of TSC's rifts which are a variation of hammerspace.

Some form a clarity is needed because i would like to patent my cool Vampire D like sword but does that me no one else can have a sword or a sword that would perform in a similar fashion as my finely crafted blade?

R: Okie dokie... You'd like to renew the patent on your rift technology?

Yes. And I'd like to get a patent for my Nano Esper Technology.

R: All right. Can I have you fill out these forms over there.

/Receptionist points to a table and hands Chris a large stack of papers

*grumble* Okay...

R: Thank you.

Oh, I'd also like to renew the patent on my brother's Deep Pocket apparel.

R: He'll have to come in and do that himself.

Okay.

NOTE: Spy has Deep Pocket Apparel which has so far been in the form of: Leather Jacket, Leather Trenchcoat (Thanks yo) Smoking Jacket, Sweater, and Hoodie with kangaroo pouch. The apparel matches the character. They also come with a rift that takes you to your home... Wherever that is. Deep pockets, for those of you that don't play D&D basically are pockets that lead to a tiny pocket dimension and thusly are able to carry more stuff. You actually have to place the stuff in the pockets in order to get it.

Oh, also, if you could post that anyone that needs mechas or any other high technology can come to me.

*BiShou enters carying a small paper bag from "Lei Fang's Chop Suey Num-num House" and starts for his office. Upon hearing a few members talking to the receptionist, he stops and turns, heading toward her desk*

Ah, hello there... How can I assist you?

*He listens as the previous mentioned concern is told once more*

Hmmm... I see... Well, let me put it like this... *he points to Chris* He, has the Rift technology. Spy, whose coat has deep pockets, doesn't really. Now, sure... technically a "bag of holding" is a rift, but that is not the use Chris implies, nor Spy.

From what I know, Spy's coats only hold what he himself puts in them, where Chris' Rifts contain anything.

Now, should someone enter using a glove that you can put a sword or gun in, and when you remove it, said weapon is in your hand... that is considered the same <i>concept</i>, but a different power/item. Just as a sentient hot-dog stand is definately not a popcorn cart.

It's like this... if you have something unique... meaning not an exact copy off of someone or something else... then it can be pattented.

Also, for those that are in need of mechs or anything of that sort, please see Chris, as those are mainly his fare.

My name is Veteran Sergeant Antenor, and I would like to patent my Mrk7 space marine power armour, my bolt pistol, inferno bolt ammo, hellfire bolt ammo, metal storm bolt ammo, kraken bolt ammo, stalker bolt ammo, my bike, my power fist, The Black Sword and all 19 of my implants (I can't be bothed to name them here, for there names and use's check out the war on lorenzo thread).

R:Okay if you would just fill out these forms

the receptioist hands him a huge stack of forms.

Okay, no problem,(across his sholder) SERF! come here and fill in these forms for me.

Suik quietly enters the office, a large tome carried under his arm. He walks up to the receptionist and lays the book on the desk. A well plucked and fasioned eye brow raises in question as she looks down on the old novel that was taking up the precious space of her desk.

"What's this?" she asks with a mild Joisy accent.

"Er, um...it's everything?" Suik replies, looking a bit sheepish.

"Everything? Looks like an old book to me..." She responds, with a bit of derision in her voice.

"Nonono...um...it's kinda hard to explain. Think of it as a history book, but it goes into the future...all the way into the future..."

"Uh huh...sure, kid. Could you move out of the way a bit, there's people here who wanna register REAL powers-" she says, waving her hand in an attempt to get him to leave.

"No, really...watch, I'll prove it!" He stands off to the side, allowing the woman who was standing behind him to advance to the desk. He sits down on the floor, paging through the book for a few minutes before standing up again, and approaching the desk.

"Ok, read this line," he says, pointing down to a paragraph in the old tome. The words are old and faded on the ancient parchment, but if you squinted, you could still make out the words.

The receptionist takes a small pair of reading glasses from the drawer within her desk, squinting down at the page before her. "Says here, in a few minutes, some guy a big suit of armor is gonna come in. If you haven't noticed, he's right there." She points off to the wall where a very large man tried in vain to hold a pen with in the fingers of the power gauntlet he wore. He could hear the curses he muttered under his breath as he broke yet another pen, smearing the paste-like ink all over his metallic digits.

"Er, wait, sorry...wrong page. One sec." He flips a few pages in the book, and scans the new page briefly, then pointed down at a new paragraph. "Ok, here. Read this one." The woman stared at him with an annoyed look on her face, then sighed and looked down at the page.

"Ok, says here that, 'The messenger entered the office, his arms laden with sustenence to assuage the pangs of hunger of the slaves who labored endless in the horrid confines of this prison'. Wussat supposed to mean? Now get outta he-" Her Joisy accent didn't really suit the prophetic tone of the words she just spoke.

"K, I got a pastrami on rye with a pickle, pastrami on rye no pickle, ham and cheese with mayo, beef and cheese extra mayo, and a meat ball sandwich. Did I get it right?" He announced to nobody in particular. He just wanted to get out of the office...too many strange looking in here at the moment.

Suik grinned and looked down at the receptionist, who didn't seem to be particularly impressed. "Now do you believe me?"

"If I patent this, will you go away?" she asked.

"Oh, yes." he said, still grinning.

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"And you'll never come back?"

"And I'll never come back..."

"Ok, fine, take this form over there, fill it out, and stick it in the slot over there. Expect a responce in 6-8 buisness days." She handed him a thick sheaf of documents.

"Ok, thank you, Miss."

"Yeah, whatever...just fill them out."

"Oh, one sec. Miss?"

"WHAT!?!" Her annoyance was starting to get the better of her.

"Um, can I have another pen? This one seems to be dead."

He ducked quickly as one flew over his head and imbedded itself point first in the wall behind him, quivering slightly...

TMT: Well, I'm a class 0 Telekinetic, which means I can lift weights up to 10 tonnes with my mind, plus form huge object entirely out of psychic energy. Think Green Lantern, but psychic, and gold not green.

Sec: Fine, just fill in these forms

hands TMT huge stack of forms and a pen.

The papers start floating around TMT's head and the pen starts writing on them

Spy: Hey Rose how are you
R: My name is not rose, what do you want
Spy: well what happened to rose
R: there never was a rose
Spy: Oh, well i would like to renew my patent For my Jackets and cloking suite, I also would like to start another one for my Gravity control, and my T100 studies i am doing on John and Zag
R: here fill out these forms here, (points to a giant folder) and these are your renewal forms (points to a fiel cabnit)

*Bigmacd enters the office in psudo lawyer ensemble, carrying an old breifcase that rattles like it is carrying a lunch, not documents*

Bigmacd: I represent the firm of Raken and Panzer, we're doing some legwork for mr. David Eddings, we were wondering, has the Green Lantern filed a patent for that power ring thing where he does everything with his will... cause our client was hoping to steal that idea and write 11 novels about it.
Receptionist: Your not a real lawyer are you?
*Bigmacd looks a bit flusterd, his face contorts into a few random shapes while he tries to think of a rebutle, before turning on his heel and runing out the front door*

no one notices as a young man with crimson hair and matching eyes enters the room, not because of any super-powers he might have, but just because they really don't care.

after waiting in line for a few minutes, he reaches the front of the line, and grins wolfishly at the bored receptionist.

"and what's your super-power? the uncanny ability to look like a grinning simpleton at will?" the receptionist queries.

"simpleton? and i thought my smile was so suave..." madadric says, shrugging off the biting remark. "no, i'm a runescribe."

"a what?"

"i'll give you the short version. there have been many races throughout the universe before us, and most of them have died. okay?"

"sure, whatever." the receptionist begins to drum her fingers on her desk, just wanting to move the line along.

"right, well, all the knowledge, the potential of these dead races and civilisations ends up residing in key symbols, phrases, words, and numbers of these dead race's written languages. sort of like an after-image or psionic resonance.. it's hard to explain..."

"is it really neccesary for me to -"

"just hear me out. so, people like me, runescribes, we sort of attract these fragments of dead scripts, and can use them to "weave runes" for lack of a better term, sort of a complicated type of math, that doesn't reley on physics."

"ooo-kay. and what are these rune things good for exactly?"

"uhm, anything, if you have the right runes, the time to scribe them, and the endurance. mostly theyr'e good for wards and a few other things..."

"like what, for instance? you need to be more specific, sir."

madadric scrawls some complicated mark on the receptionist's desk, there is a faint glimmer of the mark for a second, before it fades, and out of the wood rises a rose, perfectly sculpted from the dark, burnished wood.

"oh, party tricks then." the receptionist hands madadric a NOTICABLY THIN seaf of papers, and sends him off to sign them. "i hope your career as a party magician is a long and prosperous one, sir."

"probably not," madadric grins over his shoulder, wiping a trickle of blood from under his nose "the runes usually kill a scribe before their 35th birthday. i have about twelve years left in me,"

a small cat walks into the building,hops on a chair and sits down.
Service,Service!
The receptionist walks up and says who said that?
down here, I would like to register transmogrification(turns into a short,kind of fat male about 19 in a blue tank top and blue jeans with roller blades and a backpack).
what do you mean?
turning into certain living and non-living beings and this endless backpack akin to Spy,Sinster Chris and BiShou, But has a portal as big as a normal house.
is given a 15 foot high stack of papers to sign
*grrrr!* *f*** this!*

*Deuce strides in wearing his usual coat and sunglasses. The receptionist looked up at him over the top of her glasses.*

"And what do YOU want to patent, Mr. Orkish Matrix reject?"

*Deuce says nothing, but pulls out the PVC Pipe'o'Pain.*

"That? You're going to patent a PVC pipe with a duct-tape grip?"

*Deuce rests the pipe on the receptionist's desk, raises it a few inches, then taps the desk gently. The receptionist looks a little bemused at first, but any response is cut off when her desk splits down the middle and collapses in a heap on the ground.*

"Oh, okay, sure. Here are the forms. I'd better get maintenance in here..."

*Taking the noticably small stack of papers, Deuce goes off to one corner and begins filling them out.*

_________________Yes, I am an agent of Satan, but my duties are largely ceremonial.

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